


Second Time’s The Charm

by Niler



Category: 1D - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 16:15:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4398713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niler/pseuds/Niler





	Second Time’s The Charm

 

Second Time’s The Charm

 

 

He’d be lying if he said their first kiss was a surprise. The first kiss came long before anything else, came while they were still working things out – his past, Jeff’s past, how much of an issue any of that would be. Jeff’s one of those guys who are exactly who they seem to be, but somehow always manage to astonish you in the bedroom. He’s so easy-going in most things and though there’s definitely laughter between them in bed, somehow it doesn’t _seem_ that way, the intensity of their intimate moments anything but light-hearted.

He’s been in love before, or at least what must surely pass as his teenage _version_ of love, conception of love. Still, love is love is love. The trick is to recognise that there are gradations of love, as there are gradations in just about everything.

Because of what happened in the past he’d decided to take things very, very slowly with Jeff. Oh from the first day they met he’d known, something in the way Jeff had met him soul to soul. It’s the kind of thing you only encounter a few times in life, but the point was that he was raw, hurting, not ready to risk a thing. So he’d made that decision to simply let it happen as it would, to not push it where _he_ wanted it to go, to simply see if it would go there by itself.

Of course the fact that Jeff didn’t push in any way at all let him know that this was _exactly_ what he instinctively knew it could be.

Still, he didn’t push.

There was just something about the slow burn nature of their relationship that appealed to him, perhaps some atavistic desire to be wooed, to observe yourself falling in love, something he’d missed out on with Louis. With Louis it had just been instant, engulfing infatuation. And yes he can say it now, because it had become _more_ than that over time, but he thinks that the nature of the attraction obscured the lack of bonding beneath it all, that essential bond that he has with Jeff, which had nothing to do with wanting to sleep together, be part of a coupling. He looks back on his obsession with being Louis’ boyfriend, being his one and only, with everyone _knowing_ Louis was his and vice-versa with a tinge of embarrassment now. He thinks that it’s only being with Jeff that’s prevented the embarrassment from morphing into full blown mortification, but that’s only because being with Jeff acts as an antidote to most things, certainly the mistakes of his past. Not that he thinks being with Louis was a _mistake_ as such.

He knows now, can say with surety that he understands why it’s vital to experience something bad - or merely mediocre.

Appreciation’s a major component of his worldview, but he’s also aware that you appreciate something more if you’ve also experienced its polar opposite or worse, its pale imitation.

That is certainly true for his experience of love, friendship - partnership.

Jeff puts him first every time, and it’s not about Harry being the dominant one n the relationship or Jeff being needy or co-dependent. In fact this actually displays his strength. Jeff’s confident, confident of himself, confident of Harry’s love so he can show his love, show his vulnerable side by _showing_ his love and know it doesn’t make him weak, know it changes nothing between them.

Harry’s first simply because Jeff loves him.

He used to compare, used to all the time, but knows that’s unfair; Jeff simply isn’t Louis and it’s not right to compare them like for like as if they started from the same place, with the same advantages... or disadvantages. Jeff’s confidence is bone deep, quiet and sure, borne of testing himself in the fires of experience and coming out burnished, honed and near perfect. It wasn’t like that for Louis and Harry forgives him for that – able at last to let it go.

The sex isn’t the same.

Louis was a selfish lover; not that he didn’t care for Harry’s pleasure nor that he wasn’t a skilled lover, it was that he took so much for granted, using Harry to score points, to make _himself_ feel better. He can see it now, of course, how badly Louis used him, used their intimate relationship for easy laughs, easy point scoring. Harry knows he used to talk about their sex life – to Zayn, to Stan, to his other friends. And none of that would have been so bad if it hadn’t been for all the wrong reasons, if it hadn’t been to ultimately elevate himself, somehow, _above_ Harry.

And that’s the crux of it – the difference.

It was Michael who first showed him the difference, showed him how different it was to have sex with someone who wasn’t constantly resenting you, how different it all felt when you weren’t doing your best to please someone for whom you would _always_ be in the wrong, who’d always hold a low level burn of resentment in their belly toward you.

And Michael helped with the healing, the journey to healing, but it’s Jeff who made him see that he didn’t need to _take_ that journey, that all he needed was to experience something different; to recognise that it was accessible to him and to simply accept that was what he wanted.

For the longest time he’d allowed himself to believe that it was necessary to _bleed_ for the end of his relationship with Louis, to mourn and grieve it, to even try to _save_ it. But then he’d met Jeff, which made all of that seem like something done for someone else’s sake - their friends? Louis and his family? Certainly once he met Jeff he’d known he really wasn’t as burned, as red raw as he’d wanted to believe.

And this had naturally given rise to a period of guilt - until he worked his way through and let it go.

If people would ask him what he missed most about no longer being in a relationship with Louis he’d quite honestly have to say nothing, because everything he might have missed – the sex, the laughter – he has in spades with Jeff.

And Louis, as maybe all ex lovers do, knows that, knows that Jeff hasn’t so much replaced him as pretty much obliterated him off the face of Harry’s map.

And Harry feels he perhaps _should_ mind that he’s clearly made it that fucking obvious, but he never has and never will apologise to anyone for loving Jeff.

 

**

The second kiss is nothing like the first.

They aren’t in the hallway, drawn to each other like iron filings to a magnet, aren’t tentative about giving into the attraction, uncertain about where it might lead.

Jeff’s on his back, hands tangled in Harry’s hair, breath pushing out in hard, barely controlled gusts.

Harry’s on top, leaning into the tempting warmth of his mouth, searching for control himself as he contemplates the joys of teasing this man.

A part of him silently scoffs asking what exactly makes him think he has enough control to tease Jeff when he can barely keep himself from pushing into his mouth, letting his tongue do everything he wants his cock to do.

He pulls his head away a little, wanting to see the wetness he’s left on Jeff’s lips, and before Jeff’s eyes can fully open in silent enquiry he runs his tongue slowly over the wetness, belly jumping when Jeff moans, lets his lids drop.

He raises his mouth to Jeff’s left eyelid and leaves a kiss there, because he wants to let him know he loves his eyes, loves the way he makes love to him with his eyes.

He cannot pretend that he hasn’t been wanting this – all day he’s been wanting this – and of course Jeff has no trouble reading him, so he’s been manoeuvring to get them to this place.

Everything is just so easy with him.

Harry doesn’t quite understand why and how it’s this way with him, where he has the sense that Jeff will simply accommodate him, where he doesn’t have to second guess himself, wonder if he’s giving any cause for angst or jealousy, Jeff will simply let him know it’s okay. Be with other guys? Okay. Be around other friends for months on end? Okay. He’s not used to this, amazed now at how jealous he used to get, astonished at the way the change has happened so seamlessly.

He doesn’t want to say a word, not yet ready to let the words come as he fears they will if he doesn’t put a stopper on his overflowing heart.

So he uses both hands to push under Jeff’s shirt, the sensation of Jeff’s erect nipples under his thumbs making his breath catch, providing welcome distraction.

He thinks he’ll taste of soap and maybe mint, tongue already forming a point as his eyes greedily survey the landscape of Jeff’s torso.

When Jeff’s hands tighten in his hair he swears his cock purrs.

 

**

 

He’s right – he does taste of soap. Not mind, though.

Jeff’s hair is tickling his face, his tongue, and he wonders why this turns him on so much. Jeff seems to like it too, though, Harry’s hands tracking the tightening of ass muscles as he greedily indulges himself.

The essence of man, right here in his pubic hair.

On his haunches as Jeff leans over him, hand against the wall, he is selfishly letting him wait while he fills his nostrils with this longed for scent.

Jeff must know what this feels like, this need to bury your face in another man’s crotch, just sit there enjoying the scents and sensations. And Jeff’s stroking his hair, letting him, indulging him, but Harry can feel the growing impatience in Jeff’s cock, in his own.

He scores his nails across Jeff’s ass, imagining what that looks like, what the track of his nails will do to his skin, simultaneously opening his mouth to take in the cool bulk of Jeff’s balls.

He likes this, Jeff likes this, the hitch in his breathing showing just how much,

He’s still, barely breathing, head bent to look at Harry, track what he’s doing, and Harry raises his head to meet his eyes because he knows, knows what Jeff’s feeling, how much he needs that connection right now.

Leaving one hand on Jeff’s ass, he uses the other to lift Jeff’s cock so he can suck on his balls, tonguing them as he maintains eye contact, daring Jeff to look away, allow his eyes to close.

They’re not dating, haven’t even discussed it, but this is inevitable, has been since the day they met.

It feels so intensely important; this, this intimate act, the entire fact of being here with him like this.

But it’s not possible to get it wrong.

That is the joy of it, of Jeff being the one...

“Harry.”

Harry doesn’t answer because it’s not a question, and he doesn’t need to ask what it means.

He knows what it means.

His left hand pushes Jeff’s hips forward, steadying him as he overbalances, not willing to allow any interruption to the finesse of his movements with tongue and fingers as he conducts a symphony of sensation on Jeff’s cock.

He prides himself on his skill, but knows that all of it has been designed for just this moment, just this man; knows, too, that whatever he does Jeff will love, whatever he wants Jeff will give.

Jeff’s hand thumb strokes the corner of his mouth, the simple touch enough to ignite him, encouraging him to widen, let the smooth length of cock push in till it touches the back of his throat before allowing it to slide out. His eyes note the bobbing of Adam’s apple as Jeff swallows, chest and belly heaving just a little more than before.

“Don’t go to deep,” he says, in a rasp unlike his normal speaking voice.

Sex voice.

Harry smiles to himself, not sure it’s because he intends to tease him later or simply because Jeff has a sex voice, he’s heard it, and likes it.

Deliberately holding his gaze he goes down slowly on Jeff’s dick, letting it move into his throat.

“Fuck!”

And that’s what he’s been waiting for - that signal.

“Fuck my mouth,” he demands, not letting go of Jeff’s hips as he manoeuvres into position.

“Harry.”

“I can control it, don’t worry.”

“I-“

He seems unsure and Harry pauses, trying to gauge why. “Do you wanna 69?” And he swears he comes this close to losing an eye as Jeff’s already rock hard dick.. jumps. “Well I think we have our answer, there.” He isn’t looking at Jeff’s face, still in dick sucking mode, but he has a feeling Jeff’s blushing a little. Well, maybe he knows a way to stop him blushing. “I want you on my face.” Well, there’s no blush, but perhaps the weight of his cock as it impossibly fills with even more blood has paralysed him because he sure as hell isn’t moving.

“Do you think you can take me?” They both look down at the flagpole between his legs.

Jeff meets his eye and says absolutely nothing. The expression on his face, however, says it all.

Harry doesn’t even attempt to hide his smirk.

“Okay then.” He pulls Jeff onto his lap, surprising him, surprising him even more with the kiss.

For Harry kissing is sometimes better than sex. There’s a sort of intimacy that even being inside someone and them being inside you can’t match – depending, of course, on who it is you’re kissing.

Their first kiss was ridiculous, so intense, so perfect they’d both drawn back a little afterwards, perhaps afraid that nothing to come would or could match it, afraid to disappoint, be disappointed. The second kiss, therefore, had all that weight of expectation attached, and Harry had certainly thought long and hard about it beforehand. But when it came there’d been no reference at all to the first kiss, _this_ one the first, as all the kisses to come would be the first.

It’s intense, a little of the intimacy that comes with having someone’s dick in your mouth, having your dick in someone’s mouth adding to the intensity.

They’re promising, with tongues and lips and teeth, teasing a little, Jeff nipping at his full lower lip, Harry nibbling Jeff’s upper lip, then running his tongue over the site of the bites.

And in time they’ll get to the searing pleasure of mouth on cock, but for now this is the pleasure they crave most – the taste of saliva, the heat of mouth, the nip of teeth, the sensation of sinking into each other, being engulfed, drowning in the pleasure of kissing the desired one – at long last kissing him.

Jeff’s the first to break away, turning his attention to Harry’s neck and shoulders, raining heated kisses on sensitive skin, lying between his legs, moving slowly down.

Harry grants him the pleasure of exploration as Jeff first granted him.

He is in love with Jeff’s mouth, the way it settles into a little pout when at rest, the way it looks when he’s smiling, and now how it feels when it presses against his skin, the way its wet warmth makes him clench his fists, curl his toes...moan.

Jeff’s hair is warm, its strands like warm electricity against his sensitive skin. He opens his hand and rests his palm on his head, not pushing, not leading, simply placing it there so Jeff will know that Harry can’t speak, has run out of words to express how he’s feeling, how Jeff is making him feel.

He wants this, wants what Jeff’s promising, but more than that he wants Jeff in his mouth, wants the silk of hard cock stroked across his lips before pushing in.

“Come on.” He moves his hands to Jeff’s shoulders, firms his grip to indicate that he wants him to move.

Jeff looks sinful, eyes soft and sultry, mouth wet, ready for his cock, but he doesn’t protest, follows where Harry leads.

The world has gone silent, as if it’s holding its breath, as tense as they are, as ready to make love as they are.

He’s trembling, so turned on he can hardly find the energy or will to move even a little, but he adjusts, pulling Jeff up, kissing him before turning him, pulling him by the thighs until Jeff’s straddling his face. He takes two generous handfuls of ass and bites.

Jeff moans.

“I could eat you up,” Harry confesses, words muffled as he presses his face against Jeff’s skin. “May I?”

Jeff doesn’t answer, shifting a little as he tries to get himself into position.

Harry, inhaling sharply as he feel’s Jeff’s firm hold on his cock, takes another bite, then another, realising that this is seriously turning them both on.

He groans helplessly as Jeff’s ass cheeks spread when he settles over Harry’s cock

He places a kiss between, then another, keeping it dry and chaste – teasing him.

He wants Jeff’s cock, but he wants this too, wants to drive him crazy until Jeff’s desperate to bury himself deep in his mouth.

His cock purrs as Jeff’s grip tightens, then quivers as Jeff’s tongues the tip, nibbles all around the helmet before covering it with his lips.

He wants them to get into a rhythm, wants that synergy between them, so he positions Jeff the way he wants him, holding his ass cheeks apart with firm, greedy hands, allowing Jeff’s cock to position itself against his body so that even the tiniest bit of friction will send sparks of pleasure to his nerve endings.

This feels so decadent, so intimate, viscerally experiencing every swipe of tongue on Jeff’s skin in his own belly, in the quivering tips of fingers and toes.

Knowing how this feels he finds himself getting lost in the pleasure of bestowing that pleasure on Jeff, lost in the engulfing pleasure of wet friction on his cock, eyes squeezing shut as he muffles a moan against the muscular firmness of Jeff’s body.

He can’t tell if Jeff’s used to this, used to being rimmed. He suspects he isn’t, something about the quality of his breaths, the quivering in his muscles, like he doesn’t quite know what to expect, each frisson of pleasure a surprise.

After taking a brief moment to steady himself Harry takes a wet finger and runs it slowly down the quivering muscle before turning his attention to Jeff’s balls and the underside of his dick.

He likes that, likes the feeling of being enclosed – in a mouth, a fist – and gives a shuddering exhalation that Harry’s cock really appreciates.

Harry carefully takes him by the hips and pulls him back a little, enough so he can feast on his cock in comfort. Jeff involuntarily sinks into the welcoming warmth of his mouth but immediately withdraws, ready to apologise.

Harry pulls him back, draws him in again, holding firmly on to his hip, to his cock so he won’t move away again.

This is perfect, absolutely perfect; pleasure in the act of giving as well as receiving, both of them needing it to be this way, for today at least, both simultaneously giving and receiving.

The sound of a man sucking his cock is one of his favourite sounds, the feel of a man’s cock in his mouth one of his favourite sensations.

Jeff trusts him; leaving himself completely open the way he’s doing shows a level of trust that Harry’s sure Jeff will never understand is _such_ a fucking turn on for him.

He rakes his nails across Jeff’s strong left thigh, idly wondering why it is that when you’re ready to come the most incredible things will do it for you...

He knows he’s noisy when he comes, knows his cock does a good impression of a firehose and he most certainly _warns_ Jeff, gives him plenty of time, but Jeff doesn’t pull off, increasing the tempo of his suction instead, and Harry squeezes his eyes tightly shut, giving in to the sensation, letting it happen, letting the waves of pleasure pin him to the bed, electrify each and every synapse, throwing both arms around Jeff’s lower half as he comes.

Jeff doesn’t release him until he shudders in the universal signal to indicate hyper sensitivity, and Harry doesn’t try to stop him when he rights himself, turns, and gets hold of his dick, fingers flying as he stares into Harry’s eyes. Harry cradles his balls, runs his nails down the front of Jeff’s thighs and meets him eye to eye.

He has never seen him looking sexier, tip of tongue resting on his upper lip as the pleasure builds, everything raw - no walls, no hiding,.

This is the Jeff he’s here for, the one who makes him look at every other guy and not want to, not even fucking _want_ to...

Jeff throws his head back when he comes, eyes not closed tight the way his were, just closed, as in sleep, as in unconsciousness...

Harry watches him, watches him lost in the pleasure, watches as he slowly comes back to himself, and wonders if Jeff even knows.

But you never do, do you, never actually ever know what you mean to another person.

After a while they smile, do and say all the things you do and say in these situations, but Harry knows, and guesses that maybe, just maybe Jeff does too.


End file.
